


My Heart's Been Borrowed and Yours Has Been Blue

by TamaraHeartz



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Loves Magnus Bane, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, BUT MALEC IS ENDGAME Y'ALL, Bad Parent Robert Lightwood, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Friends to strangers to reluctant friends to lovers, Good Parent Maryse Lightwood, How can it not be?, I came across a few concerns, Idiots in Love, Kinda?, Love, Lydia Branwell & Alec Lightwood Friendship, Lydia is wonderful, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Beta, No cheating, Romance, Slow Burn, Still dying like men, Wedding Planning, Wedding planner Magnus Bane, fuck how do you tag, idiots to lovers, they're engaged btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28714110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TamaraHeartz/pseuds/TamaraHeartz
Summary: He imagines Alec on the bed, covers pulled up to his torso, soft, messy curls sticking up in every direction and that delicious tattoo on his neck that he got for his twentieth birthday bold against his porcelain skin.Lying next to Lydia.Magnus' stomach churns painfully.
Relationships: Lydia Branwell & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 65
Kudos: 296
Collections: Favorite Malec Stories





	My Heart's Been Borrowed and Yours Has Been Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darknutmeg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darknutmeg/gifts).



> This was supposed to come out on Christmas (despite it not being a Christmas fic) but then life happened and it's nearly twenty days late! Don't you just love it when shit punches you in the gut when you've got almost 95% written?
> 
> Also, dedicated to the lovely Meghan because she's an absolute blessing to this fandom! Hope you like it, darling ♥
> 
> Title from Taylor Swift's 'Lover'.

_"Ms. Branwell called."_

He casts a surreptitious glance at his watch, frowns, and presses down on the intercom. "Could you repeat that, please?"

_"Ms. Branwell called. Your three o'clock."_

Magnus doesn't remember seeing a _Branwell_ in his schedule and quickly runs through the appointment log in his computer. It's not there either.

"Dorothea, have you forgotten to update my schedule again?"

There's a beat of silence from the other side, before Dot exclaims, _"so that's what I didn't do this morning!"_

Magnus sighs. He's been ecstatic to see a three hour break in his timetable after lunch; _too_ ecstatic to notice that it's the same schedule as yesterday, and now it's ruined by Dot and her Branwell. He's already promised to grab a long lunch with Ragnor and Raphael and now he's never going to hear the end of it when he leaves early.

But he has no other option. The Branwells are a very important political family and making them unhappy would be a suicide for Magnus' business.

He asks Dot, his assistant and a dear friend, to join him and she walks in a moment later, wild brown curls bouncing over her shoulders with every peppy step. Her face set in a smile too wide for someone who has forgotten to update her boss' schedule. But they both know that Magnus has already forgiven her, so he doesn't comment on it.

"So," he intertwines his fingers and rests his elbow on the rich, dark mahogany table in front of him while Dot makes herself comfortable on the chair across him, "I haven't had the chance to read up on them," he shoots a pointed look and she laughs sheepishly. "What did Ms. Branwell want?"

"Ah," Dot takes out her phone and pulls up her notes, "she's unable to get out of an important meeting, so her fiancé and his sister will be joining us instead. She also apologized for missing the first appointment."

Magnus raises an eyebrow. "And? Does that fiancé have a name?"

"About that," Dot looks a little uncomfortable this time, "she hung up before I could ask her about him and now her phone is switched off."

"Dorothea."

"Sorry, sorry! I know it was irresponsible of me and I promise it won't happen again!"

Magnus heaves out a breath, exasperated. He didn't become one of the best wedding planners of New York without having his clients thoroughly researched first. He likes to study their mannerisms and aesthetics before scheduling an appointment to make sure they feel right at home.

He pushes himself up from the chair and grabs his black and gold brocade coat and slides it over his shoulders. He picks up his phone and sends Ragnor a quick text.

"I'll be back before three. Google everything you can about the Branwell engagement and prepare a file."

Dot salutes him. "On it, boss."  


**_**

Lunch with Ragnor and Raphael goes better than he expects, accompanied with only a handful of _you're going to work yourself to death_ and _it's time you get over that wench and get a life._ Magnus loves his friends to the moon and back, they're his only family, but sometimes they get a little too much. Ragnor tends to express his disdain with absonant British terms that Magnus has to look up later, Raphael settles with an impassive expression and an eye-roll while Catarina acts like a helicopter mom until Magnus reaches his breaking point.

And Magnus feels like it's all he's received from them ever since that disaster with Camille which resulted in him drowning himself with work. He _knows_ it's not a healthy coping mechanism, but he's tired of attempting to find his person and start a life, only to fail all over again.

The frigid, winter air outside rattle his bones as he tries to slip past a group of tourists taking photos of the Christmas tree that was decorated that morning, and walks into the sleek commercial building. Magnus nods at the security and winks at the receptionist and makes his way to the elevator. His office occupies the entire sixth floor, which some might consider a little lavish, but the expensive vintage decor interspersed carefully radiates a snug, gemütlich ambience.

Dot is at her desk in front of the office when he drops off her hot chocolate and receives a file in exchange - he doesn't raise his eyebrows at it, because she's always super fast when it comes to information gathering. He bids her _adieu_ and shuts off the door to his office. Once he's settled comfortably on his chair, he picks up a pencil, opens the file and stabs himself with said pencil.

Unintentionally, of course.

Because staring right at him is an article about _Alexander_.

_His_ Alexander.

Okay, maybe not so much as _his_ , because the article _is_ about the Lightwood-Branwell engagement.

Magnus has tried his absolute best since college to cut off anything related to the Lightwoods from his life, and judging from the happy couple sharing a kiss on the paper in front of him, he's been successful. Only that his success has returned to bite him in the ass.

Magnus met Alec in high school, instantly charmed by the tall, lanky boy who flushed at the smallest bit of attention. He had spent the first few months coaxing the boy out of his shell and the rest of his school year passing every possible moment with him. They worked hard to get into the same college, and when they did, celebrated by getting drunk off their asses.

College with Alec was wonderful. They took turns to walk the other to class, get lunch together, and even shared an apartment. Things were going splendidly and Magnus was living the best time of his life.

A few months into college, he found himself memorizing every little quirks Alec had. Magnus would wake up early to catch a glimpse of Alec's bed-hair - curls sticking up in every direction as Alec got ready for his morning run - then go back to sleep as soon as the hazel-eyed boy was out of the door. He loved getting back home after a particularly long and taxing day and curling up with Alec on the sofa, shoulders heavy with exhaustion and eyes drooping. He loved how Alec's eyes would light up with curiosity when he'd find something interesting - be it a business topic or a random fact about cows.

It took Magnus a month or two to perceive his infatuation with his best friend, and by that time, Ragnor, Catarina and Raphael had convinced him that Alec felt the same. They assured him that Alec gazed at Magnus with the same twinkle in his eyes, smile on his lips and love in his heart.

So, on Magnus' twenty-first birthday, he professed his feelings. And woke up the next day with a massive hangover, an empty apartment and a text from Alec, apologizing and saying that he couldn't be around Magnus anymore.  
  
He was mad at his friends, at the beginning, for feeding him lies and delusions, but quickly realized that it wasn't their fault. Alec should've respected their six-year-old friendship and talked it out with him. He should've stayed back, because that's what they'd promised.

And now he's marrying a _woman_.

It's terrifying how deep internalized homophobia runs.

Magnus takes a deep breath and steels himself. It's been eight years since then and he's certainly over it. It's not like he hasn't been in love after that - even when all his relationships faced the same fate of crash and burn.

Nevertheless, he's over Alec. One hundred percent. He's just a little...unnerved.

At least he got time to emotionally prep himself for the inevitable upcoming shitshow of an appointment. He doesn't dare imagine what he would've done had he faced Alec without any warning.

Although Alec hiring Magnus to plan his wedding doesn't sit well with him, he ignores it in favour of looking through the articles.

There's a big picture sitting atop the feature, quite possibly taken from a social media account. Alec's fianceé, _Lydia Branwell_ , a tall, blonde woman, dressed methodically to highlight the huge diamond on her finger is pressed close to Alec, who's stealing a kiss.

Magnus flips the page and lands on another glossy article, this one adorned with a candid of Lydia smiling up at her fiancé while his gaze is somewhere faraway, distracted.

The beautiful boy for whom Magnus would've given his life, once, has aged gracefully. Looking taller than Magnus remembers, he's dressed to the nines in every corresponding picture and is rocking that dark five o'clock shadow like none other.

Magnus presses a palm against the erratic thudding in his chest, begging it to quiet down. It's not fair. The boy - well, now _man_ , because _oh là là_ \- has already stepped over his heart. He would rather die than set himself up for that kind of pain again.

There are a lot of article and paper-cuttings accumulated in the file, but Magnus doesn't get the chance to go through all of them, because moments later, Dot's voice beeps in though the intercom.

_"Your three pm is here, boss."_

Well, here goes nothing.

It's fine. He's a professional and he can damn well act like it. Well, as professional as one can be while hastily shoving a file on information on their client in the drawer.

Dot knocks on the Panama redwood door twice before she leads the pair in, and Magnus is instantly taken aback. His breath stutters at the sight of the dazzling Lightwood siblings, confident and owning the room at first step.

And judging from the unmistakable stupor on Alec's handsome face, Magnus isn't the only one having difficulties breathing. Curious.

He gapes at Magnus for a second or two, and no matter how hard he tries, Magnus can't sever the eye contact.

"M-Magnus."

Alec's stutter comes off more as a question than a statement, so Magnus raises his eyebrows at him. "Alec. I suppose congratulations are in order."

Like the flip of a switch, unfathomable fury flickers through Alec's eyes. He spins towards Isabelle, who's been watching the exchange with blatant interest, and spits out, "you did this on purpose."

Isabelle puts her hands up in surrender. "Don't look at me, _h_ _ermano_. It was Lydia who made the appointment, was it not?"

"Yes, because _you_ pitched the idea to her."

Magnus watches with amusement as Izzy raises her perfectly sculpted eyebrows, unfazed by Alec's accusations. "I only wanted the wedding to be _absolutely_ perfect, and who else could I trust to do that other than the very _best_?" She checks her nails and cuts Alec off from opening his mouth again. "Besides, you could've easily looked your planner up if you'd been the _least_ interested in this wedding."

_Oh_. That...is _not_ a discussion they should be having in front of witnesses.

Magnus dismisses Dot, approaches the pair and clears his throat. "It's lovely to see you, Isabelle." He smiles, because it really is.

Izzy shoots him a wide grin. "It's _wonderful_ to see you, Magnus! You're living the dream, I see."

_Only if she knew_. "Arranging weddings and dressing people up? Oh well, you're not _wrong_."

"Hm, I wanted to say _earning money while bossing people around,_ but if you wish to be nonrecreational, then by all means."

They share a familiar grin, as though it hasn't been almost a decade since they last talked. The informality is a nice addition and definitely something Magnus wasn't expecting from this appointment.

He feels Alec's burning eyes on him as if it's _Magnus_ ' fault they've crossed paths, but he doesn't let it faze him. He gestures to the set of armchairs across his table and flashes them a million dollar smile.

"Please, take a seat."

Isabelle leaves her brother's side instantly and struts over to the seat, giving Magnus a moment to appreciate her garnet vintage cape-coat and the pair of similar hued killer heels. Magnus has never been unimpressed by Isabelle's fashion sense and there's an odd sense of comfort in the fact that it's yet to change.

Alec, on the other hand, is dressed in a simple grey button-down and pants, topped with a black casual blazer and a pair of shiny onyx Oxfords. When he joins Isabelle a moment of hesitation later, Magnus resumes his seat, ignores the part of him that's dancing with joy at the prospect of seeing Alec again, and makes sure to never drop his faux smile.

"So, before we get started on the details, tell me when the happy occasion is!"

The siblings share a look, before Izzy tentatively speaks says, "Two days after Christmas."

Magnus doesn't like the silence that follows and tilts his head to the side. " _Next_ Christmas?"  
  
There's a pause. " _This_ Christmas."

He freezes. This Christmas? But that's in...

"In _twenty-seven days_ _?_ "

He might be the best in NYC, but he's not a damn wizard!

Izzy tries to put the fire out by exclaiming, "don't worry! Lydia already has everything selected - the bakery, florist, venue, she's done with the seating arrangement, and even bought the dress!"

That's doesn't tamper Magnus down even by a pinch. He _hates_ it when others do his work for him, even when it's one of the Congressional Staffs. "Then pray tell, my dear, why am I being hired if Alec's _lovely_ fianceé has everything under control?"

Alec bristles at his words, but opts to remain silent and focus on the antique quill pen on Magnus' desk. Izzy, on the other hand, deflates.

"We were supposed to plan the wedding together, Lydia and I. But then the Senator decided to have her monitor some important bills and now she can't make time. It'll be a miracle if she gets three weeks off for her honeymoon."

Magnus leans back in his chair, shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. He can still back off, nothing has been finalized yet - but he shouldn't. _And_ he can't.

Lydia Branwell is a Congressional Staff directly working under the Senator Henry Branwell, who also happens to be her grandfather. The Lightwoods own the multimillion dollar company _Lightwood Corp._ Together, these two families are capable of uprooting a person's life in ways unimaginable.

_Magnus_ doesn't want to be that person.

And there's also his history with Alec. If he turns down the job, there's a risk of looking petty and completely unprofessional. He doesn't want Alec to think that Magnus isn't over him. Because he is. Over him.

Given the chance, he'd love to be under him as well.

No, wait. He's over him. _Focus_.

Magnus pushes back the approaching headache and looks at Isabelle, still pointedly refusing to spare Alec a glance. "Show me what you've got."

Izzy produces a big, fat binder from her bag, all colour-coded, and the headache slams into Magnus headfirst. This Lydia person seems painfully obnoxious.

And very neat, judging from the table of content page on top of the binder. Izzy flips through the pages until she reaches her destination and names out the florist, bakery and venue.

Magnus nods a long and reaches for the binder. "May I?"

He skims through the highlighted points and makes a mental note to add the couple's preferences to his own file. The Loeb Boathouse, Central Park, has already been booked for the ceremony and reception. The wedding gown and the bridesmaid's dresses are also taken care of. And judging from the notes in the rest of the page, Lydia has already contacted the florist.

Magnus furrows his brow. So all he needs to do is take care of the cake, dress the groom and his men and make sure everything is in place?

This is the easiest wedding he's ever planned.

He glances up at Alec and finds him staring intently at Magnus' bejeweled hands, plush bottom lip caught between his teeth. Something flutters in his stomach.

This is going down in history as the toughest wedding ever planned.

Nevertheless, he's going to power through it and come out unscathed. Or maybe with a few bruises on his heart.

Magnus clears his throat and enjoys the flush in Alec's cheeks when he realizes that he's caught staring. Izzy leans forward with enthusiasm.

"Since it's a short notice, I'm going to have to pull some strings, but how does Thursday sound for visiting the men's tailor?"

There's an adorable pinch in Alec's forehead as he thinks about Magnus' offer. A few seconds later, he nods. "I can manage Thursday."

Magnus suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. _Manage._ As if he's doing them a favour.

"Great," he puts on a grin, "I'm going to owe Raphael big time for this, but I can assure you, his creations are to die for."

They set up a time and after Alec double-checks with his groomsmen, decide to meet at _The Dumort_ before noon.

_The Dumort_ is a posh men's tailor, specializing in handcrafted, high quality fabric and comfort. It's every groom's dream shop and Magnus dear friend, Raphael Santiago takes pride in being its owner. It's warmly lit and brilliantly decorated, thanks to Magnus' excellent eye for design, radiating everything contrary to the stoic, poker-faced owner.

Magnus bids the siblings goodbye with a kiss on Isabelle's cheek and a nod at Alec, and slumps down in his chair as soon as they leave.

Time to call Raphael and disappoint him over Magnus' life choices.

**_**

Raphael regards him with cold eyes. 

_"Estás pero si bien pendejo."_

"You've already said that."

_"E_ _l burro sabe mas que tu!_ _"_

"What was I supposed to do?" Magnus throws his hands up in exasperation. "Look him in the eye and say _hello, Alexander._ _I can't plan your wedding. Why? Oh, that's 'cause I still feel butterflies rampaging in my stomach whenever I look at you!_ "

Raphael sighs, but drops the glower. "You're setting yourself up for a heartbreak, Magnus."

"Actually," Magnus makes himself comfortable on the lavish couch in Raphael's office, "I've decided to keep my conversation with Alec to a bare minimum."

"We both know you're going to fail," Raphael scoffs.

"Have some faith in me, my dear." Magnus throws an arm over the back of the couch and smiles. " _I_ certainly don't."

He's saved from Raphael's quip by the literal bell tinging from the entrance. Magnus looks at the big grandfather clock and surely, it's eleven. Looks like Alec and Co. are right on time.

He gets up from the couch, tugs on the sleeve of his blue trench coat, carefully runs his fingers through his azure tipped hair and wriggles his fingers at the annoyed figure in front of him. "Let's go greet your customers."

Raphael mutters something unintelligible under his breath, possibly a curse, and glares at Magnus. "Just because _you_ went easy on the boy doesn't mean I will."

Magnus huffs and walks out of the monochrome office, and finds his gaze zeroing on Alec, who's leaning against the counter and drumming his fingers on it. The groomsmen surrounding him are talking animatedly, completely unaware of Alec's obvious jitters.

Alec is decked out in...the same clothes as before, Magnus notes with disappointment. Some things never change.

He notices Jace being one of crew, and approaches him with a smile.

"Look at you, Herondale. Still as obnoxiously blond as ever."

Jace swivels around at his voice and grins. "And you, Bane, still as, uh, whatever you were as ever."

Yeah. Some things really don't change.

Magnus rolls his eyes. "You're the best man, I presume?"

"Yes." Jace points to the rest of their friends, "the one with the glasses is Simon, Izzy's boyfriend and this little punk," he grabs a teenage boy by the shoulders and ignores the groan of protest, "is Max."

Magnus frowns. "Max? As in Max Lightwood the _baby_?"

Alec chuckles from where he's standing behind Magnus, and Magnus' heart does something akin to a somersault at the sound. He remembers Alec throwing his head back and laughing at some ridiculous soap opera and loving the dread, mixed with adoration and topped with anticipation blooming in his chest. Why did he have to fall in love?

Magnus shakes his head at his ludicrous thoughts and tilts his head back to meet Alec's eyes. "Isn't he supposed to be five or something?"

Max grumbles out a, "I'm fourteen!"

Raphael coughs behind them, and when they turn around, fixes them with a frown. "If you're quite done, follow me inside so I can get your measurements."

As they walk over to the dressing room from the brightly lit reception, Alec falls into step with Magnus naturally, hands tucked in his pockets.

Sensing the approaching awkward silence, Magnus asks, "will Ms. Branwell be able to join us later today?"

At Alec's questioning look, he waves his hands in the air and explains, "I talked to the bakery this morning and they have a vacancy after lunch. If your fianceé is a available, we can take care of two jobs today, seeing that the wedding is in, oh, twenty-two days," he ends with a grimace.

Alec's staring at his face, gaze intent and laced with something Magnus doesn't want to decipher before he nods and brings out his phone. "I'll text her."

"You do that while I," he cringes at the sight of Jace touching Raphael's rack of expensive handmade suits, "save your brother from an untimely death."

Alec looks up at Jace and his face does a little twist, caught somewhere between a grimace and fond exasperation. He has always been protective of his adoptive brother, determined to give him all the love in the world to make up for their parent's absence. Even back in school, Magnus would look at Alec and know that one day, he's going to be a great father.

"Jace, don't touch the suits."

Jace retracts his hands with a pout, notices Raphael's lethal glare and immediately steps away from the rack.

Alec finishes texting his fianceé and steps up to the group. "Let's get this over with."

Three hours later, Magnus finds his breath catching, heartbeat echoing in his throat for the fifth time at the sight of Alec in a tuxedo. The previous four sets looked gorgeous on him, but this one is outstanding.

Alec has opted to go for the traditional black and white, and Magnus has to admit, with a face and body like his, he could be wearing a neon tux with a fuchsia feather boa and glittery hair and still manage to look royal.

But right now, he's in a jet black cashmere suit jacket with peak lapels, underneath which is a white pique shirt accompanied by a pleated front. A grosgrain band is stitched to the outside seams of the black tuxedo pants covering the legs for days. Raphael and his assistant, Lily Chen, work simultaneously to fix the cufflinks and knot the bowtie while Alec stands on the raised, oval podium with an uncomfortable pinch on his face. He's always hated people fussing over him.

Magnus doesn't want to stare shamelessly, but his eyes are notorious for not listening to him. He follows the movement of Alec's hand as it musses up his untamed hair, causing the dark curls to stick up. It reminds Magnus of their college days when Alec didn't own a comb and would come into Magnus' room every morning before class to get rid of his bed head. Magnus can still feel the familiar glide of the soft, surprisingly silky hair beneath his fingers.

He lets out a shuddering breath and tries to steel his resolve. Alec is a taken man who's only three weeks away from having a ring on his finger. And Magnus' moral compass is still intact.

When Raphael looks at him expectantly, he walks over to where Alec is standing, feeling everyone's eyes on him. He rounds the podium, tapping his lips with his index finger and scrutinises on Alec's figure, trying to find any fault in the outfit. But of course, that's an impossible task since he trusts Raphael to deliver the absolute best.

Magnus looks up to meet Alec's eyes, just in time to catch him wrench his eyes away from his Magnus' and gulp. He dismisses it without a thought. "What do you think?"

Alec doesn't blink. "It's pink."

It's _what?_

Jace and Simon laugh as Max rolls his eyes, while Magnus stands there, frowning in confusion. "Sorry, darling?"

He doesn't even notice the pet name slipping out, too busy to watch Alec break out of his reverie. "What? No, it's, uh, good. Great. Uh, black."

Raphael looks unimpressed. "This is not just _great_ , Lightwood. It's an _exquisite_ suit providing utmost comfort and achieving the sleek, contemporary superficies that is abhorrently favoured by your generation."

Magnus doesn't dare remind him that Raphael _himself_ is a part of Alec's generation, because Simon does it for him. And receives a cold silence in return.

Alec's cheeks are tinted pink in the warm light, the flush running down his neck and disappearing behind the collar. "I like it," he states and turns to Jace, "yeah?"

Jace does another sweep with his eyes and nods. "Yeah."

The groomsmen's suits are quite easy to find, typical grey blazers and white shirts, and before Magnus knows it, he's standing outside the bakery with Alec, waiting for Lydia _and_ the owner of the place to return from lunch.

The nippy, biting cold air has settled down, leaving behind a city blanketed with white snow. The bakery stands in a smaller part of New York, comparatively quieter and less crowded, but that might have something to do with the fact that it's just after lunch.

The sky is murky, hazy with fog and the silence around them is deafening. Magnus shuffles on his feet, tucks in hands in his pockets and buries his face in his scarf. Next to him, Alec lets out an annoyed huff.

"When's he getting back?"

Magnus rolls his eyes. "Always so impatient. He asked for fifteen more minutes, and it's only been five."

They've been travelling by Alec's sleek black Aston Martin, which he had let go to pick up Lydia, even though she had at least ten cars at her service.

There's a moment of silence that doesn't get the chance to become awkward, thanks to Magnus' stupid mouth.

"Are you in love with her?"

_For fuck's sake._

He's their wedding planner! He's supposed to congratulate the happy couple, make sure nothing goes wrong on their big day and _move the fuck on._

Alec's stiffens, and Magnus makes the mistake of looking up at him. His porcelain cheeks are red and there's this impuissance in his face that breaks Magnus' heart. He should've kept his mouth shut.

"I'm sorry," Magnus looks away, "it's none of my business."

Alec sighs. "I came out to my parents a few weeks after...after I moved out of our apartment. Dad said _okay_ and invited the Branwells for dinner the next day, demanding Lydia and I to get married to fortify the partnership between the two family." He runs his hands over his face, distraught. "We've tried to put off the wedding for as long as possible, and honestly, I'm surprised that Robert let this go on for _eight_ years."

Magnus has never liked Robert Lightwood. Even as kids, whenever he'd go over to the Lightwood mansion, Robert has always made sure to make Magnus feel like an outsider. He'd order the head chef to make pizza and ask Magnus if he's okay with it, since he's _not used to food like that_. Even though Magnus has lived in New York since he was a baby. He'd ask Magnus if he has been taking makeup tips from his mother, only to audibly gasp and exclaim that he's forgotten about his mother's suicide.

Robert Lightwood is a racist homophobe who should be fed dicks for dinner.  
  
Magnus doesn't voice his thoughts out loud, and Alec continues, gaze afar. "Lydia is a wonderful person." His voice is quiet, but affectionate. "She's funny, headstrong, and maybe if I was--if I was attracted to women, she would've been the one for me."

He should hate Alec for breaking his heart, but he realizes that he actually pities him. Magnus can't keep the contempt out of his voice when he asks, "so you'd rather spend the rest of your life married to someone you don't love than stand up to your father?"

Alec lets out a bitter laugh in the harsh winter air. "It's not that easy, Magnus. Besides, I _do_ love Lydia. Just...not how she deserves."

Magnus thinks it's a bullshit excuse. "Tell me why it's not easy. Tell me you won't spend your entire life regretting this."

Alec looks at him then, eyes sad and shiny from suppressed emotions, and Magnus gets a strong urge to wrap his arms around the hunched figure, tuck him into his chest and never let go. "It's too late to back off. If I break this engagement, the Senator isn't going to be happy about it. Our company could go bankrupt. And Lydia," he gulps audibly, "she lost her ex-fiancé in an accident. She deserves something stable."

"And what about what _you_ deserve?"

With a wet chuckle, Alec shakes his head. "I deserve this for being a coward."

This man is _infuriating._ "Then don't. Tell Robert that marrying a woman isn't going to magically make you straight."

Magnus knows it's not his place to say all this. They haven't had a single conversation since Alec walked out on him eight years ago, and he should just let it go. Plan the wedding, overcharge them, and get out. But when he looks at Alec, he sees the boy he fell in love with. Always trying to do the right thing, never once stopping to think how it effects _him_. The boy who has always been the closest thing to an angel Magnus has ever known.

And Magnus cares. He knows he shouldn't, but he does. And surprisingly, he doesn't hate himself for it.

"Robert doesn't care if I'm gay. He wants me to _pretend_ I'm not. Besides, I--I broke our friendship and your heart. Isn't this a fitting punishment?"

Magnus explodes. "I don't want you to _punish_ yourself, Alexander! Yes, I _hated_ you after you left, but I still--I _care_. And if you think that I'm the kind of person who wishes to see you suffer, maybe you don't know me at all."

Alec turns to him fully, takes a step closer, and Magnus basks in the phantom body heat and the hint of vanilla. "I know you don't, Magnus," he whispers, leaning down just the tiniest bit, "you're the kindest person I've ever known."

There's melancholy brimming in his eyes, but there's also something akin to affection. And Magnus can't bear it. He opens his mouth to ask Alec to rethink his choices, but the screech of tires on the cold road break their trance.

Lydia steps out of the expensive car and Alec jumps back, suddenly stiff and nervous. Magnus takes a moment to breathe. He wants to connect the dots to figure out why Alec left all those years ago when he regrets it so vehemently, but knows he doesn't have the time. And it doesn't matter either. Whatever they had is gone. He has survived for almost a decade without Alec, and he can surely get through the rest of his life like this.

Lying to oneself is an untenable addiction; once you start doing it, there's no going back.

"Mr. Bane," Lydia smiles as she approaches them, wide and gleeful, "it's such a pleasure to meet you. I'm a big fan of your work."

Magnus returns her smile. "The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Branwell."

"Oh, call me Lydia, please."

"Magnus, then."

She greets Alec with a quick peck on his lips and turns towards Magnus, her white peacoat glistening in the haze of the sun, complementing nicely with her blond updo. "I attended Lorenzo Rey's wedding and I must say, it was your best work till date."

Magnus is pleasantly surprised at the confession. Lorenzo Rey was a rival planner, until they were forced to work together and ended up sorting things out. He married his long-term _boyfriend_ , Andrew Underhill, and Magnus had the privilege of planning their wedding.

What surprises him is how genuinely nonchalant Lydia is about a same-sex wedding. He'd assumed, unfairly, that Alec couldn't come out because his fiancé has certain opinion towards homosexuality just like his father, but he seems to have been proven wrong.

He doesn't favour making wrong assumptions, but he's actually glad this time.

Magnus nods. "Lorenzo is an old acquaintance and I'll admit putting a lot of work into his wedding."

"Speaking of which," Lydia says solemnly, "I apologize for the short notice with our wedding. An emergency came up and I just couldn't get away from my duties."

"No worries, my dear. You've already finished all the taxing jobs." Magnus grins teasingly. "All I have to do is make Alec look pretty, which is the easiest task, and have cake!"

Lydia raises her brows in amusement as Alec flushes. "I wouldn't argue with that. Neverthelss, I'm thankful that you agreed to this."

_It's not like I had a choice._ "Like I said, it's my pleasure."

They make small talk for a minute or two before the owner of the bakery comes in running, apologizing profusely and promising a big discount on their cake. Magnus stifles a laugh. Looks like he's not the only one who wants to make a good impression on the Lightwood-Branwells.

The interior of the bakery - _Cakery,_ Magnus notes with disdain - is decorated with a soft cream light, glistening off the ivory hued walls and the contemporary, sleek furniture. A big Christmas tree with colourful plastic macaroons and white chocolate truffles stands in the middle the room, complementing interestingly with the artificial replica of tempting desserts embedded in the ceiling in Christmas colours.

Seashell white furniture are spaced sparsely, and they're lead to the center table as the enticing aroma of freshly baked goodies tickle their senses. There is a comforting warmth radiating through the room, a saving grace from the bitter cold outside.

Lydia and Alec sit next to each other and Magnus and the owner, Charles, occupy the seats across them. Magnus legs accidentally brush with Alec's, but the latter doesn't show any sign of acknowledgment, so he ignores the sudden warmth flowering in his chest and doesn't think twice about it.

In hindsight, maybe he should've.  
  
Soon enough, staffs in butter yellow aprons file in, and Magnus finds himself looking forward to the tasting. It has always been his favourite part of the planning.

The first flavour they bring in is a Chocolate Cappuccino Torte, a rich chocolate cake with a decadent cappuccino mouse filling. Three samples are placed on the table, and as soon as the servers leave, Lydia dives right in and moans.

Magnus stifles a laugh as Alec casts a horrified look at her at the obscene sound, and nudges her side to whisper, "we have company!"

Lydia throws him a glare, no actual heat behind it. "Try it first."

Alec gives her an unimpressed look, but does as she says. And of course, fails to hide the delighted groan at the excellent blend of flavour on his tongue. Magnus gulps, eyes trailing down the motion of Alec's Adam's apple as he swallows his piece.

"This is," Alec stops for a moment to fumble around for the right word, but sheepishly settles on, "just _wow_."  
  
Charles beams at the reaction. "Thank you! It's our bestseller."

They scrape off every crumb from their plates within seconds, and Magnus vows to have cakes for lunch everyday. Who needs washboard abs anyways? It's not like he's getting laid anytime soon.

Lydia wipes her mouth with a napkin, and sighs. "I wouldn't have waited eight years to marry Alec if I'd known about the wonders of cake tasting."

From the corner of his eyes, Magnus notices Alec flinching at her words, but hurriedly schooling his expression up with a strained smirk. "Hush now, or I'd end up thinking you're marrying me just for the cake."

Lydia mimics his expression. "Who says they have to be mutually exclusive?"

And Magnus sees why Alec has chosen to marry her. They're a perfect match, fitting together like pieces of puzzle - except Alec's that rainbow coloured piece in a set of monochrome. Magnus wants to dislike Lydia for reasons unknown, but she's making it difficult for him with her fashion sense and amicable mindset.

"Well," Lydia puts down her napkin of the table and says, "I'd love to announce this flavour for our wedding cake, but it'd be an amateur move since we haven't tried out everything."

Charles nods enthusiastically and makes some intricate gestures to his staff, who disappears into the kitchen and quickly reappears with three samples of Salted Caramel cake.

"Since you're having a winter wedding, this cake is the perfect choice," Charles explains. "It's a roasted almond cake, brushed with Amaretto, filled with caramel infused buttercream and a thin layer of salted caramel."

Lydia, who has been preparing to cut into the cake, drops the fork and shakes her head sideways. "I'm allergic to nuts, and there's gonna be kids at the wedding, so the Amaretto is a big no."

Alec shakes his head and digs in, and as soon as he tastes the cake, there's a wide smile blossoming on his face. "Lyds, this is even better than the first one."

The sight of Alec smiling releases the butterflies in Magnus' stomach. He looks genuinely delighted, and it's an image Magnus' didn't realize he missed. Alec looks younger, as if there's no burden on his shoulder.

Lydia swats at his arm. "Compromise, Lightwood. That's what a marriage is about."

Charles, the dumb _fuck_ , laughs. "I disagree. I think marriage is more about love and passion."

Magnus expects Alec to flee, freeze or even splutter, but not to slide his legs and shuffle them closer until they're resting against Magnus', a warm tether binding him to the world. He doesn't know how to react, and frankly, doesn't want to remove the point of contact, even though the soon-to-be Mrs. Lightwood is _right_ there.

He looks up hesitantly at Alec, and finds his eyes on him, the most beautiful shade of hazel that still haunts Magnus in his dreams. Magnus knows that he's not imagining the flush of red on Alec's cheeks, and it warms him up from the inside. He can't look away, wants to feel the press of legs forever, but Lydia's tutting breaks him from his reverie.

"Love is fickle when there's no compromise."

Magnus hastily moves his legs away, and to hide the crimson on his cheeks, shoves a big piece of cake in his mouth.

Realizing that there's more to the story, Charles shuts up by good fortune, and nods. "Well, then, let's try the next flavour!"

They go through samples of Tuxedo Torte, Fresh Strawberries and Cream Cake, and Caramel Apple Cake before deciding that their first option, the Chocolate Cappuccino Torte is the one for the wedding.

Magnus is thankful for the quick work, because he can't wait for the day to end. Too many hours with Alexander is strenuous for his heart.

It's wrong. What Alec is doing and what Magnus is letting him do is wrong and immoral on so many levels. He gets that Alec is repressed and inhibited when it comes to his feelings, and no matter how much a single touch leaves Magnus undone, he refuses to be guilty of such a culpable act. If Alec can't handle being engaged to Lydia without having a backup, he shouldn't even contemplate marrying her.

Maybe it was a spur of the moment thing, but Magnus knows he needs to have a stern word with Alec. If Magnus is able to keep his hands to himself even after being in love with him, surely it wouldn't be an issue for Alec?

They place their order for the cake and Magnus saves Charles' contact, knowing that he'll be back with another wedding crew soon. The trio walk out of the bakery and are instantly hit by the cold air.

Alec's car is waiting for them, and though Magnus wants to do nothing but bury his face in his warm muffler and go home, he stops the couple.

"Alec, may I have a word with you?"

Lydia senses Magnus' need for privacy, and bids him farewell with a warm smile and a quick hug. She gets in the car, and once she's out of sight, Magnus turns to Alec and tilts his head to the side. Alec takes the hint and steps away from the car and onto the asphalt, hands tucked into his pocket.

Once Magnus makes sure that there's no one in hearing distance, he glares at Alec and hisses, "there will be none of that! You're engaged to a lovely woman and you will respect her and stay committed!"

Alec turns beet red, ducks his head and mutters, "I'm sorry. It was a moment of weakness and I--"

"Well," Magnus crosses his arms over his chest, "it better not happen again. I'm not gonna help you cheat on your fianceé."

Alec's eyes widen, as though the thought of _cheating_ never even crossed his mind. But that is what this is. Playing footsie under the table with your wedding planner while your fianceé eats cake next to you is one hundred percent cheating.

Nothing severe, but cheating nevertheless.

Alec nods again, then scratches the back of his head in a nervous gesture. And Magnus definitely doesn't forget his rage and admire the bulge of his bicep when he raises his arm.

"Feel free to decline, but Izzy wants you to join us this Saturday. A few of us are getting together at _Taki's_ at eight, and well, she thought you'd like to catch up."

Magnus notes with disdain that Alec deliberately words his invitation to make it sound like Isabelle is the only one who wants Magnus there. He doesn't want to admit that his Saturday night plans include curling up in front of _The Bachelor_ with The Chairman and a bottle of whiskey, so he makes a vague gesture with his hands.

"I'll check my schedule and let you know."

"You have my number on the file, right?"

Magnus hums. "Yes. Will Lydia be there?"

"If she can get away from work, then yes."

"I'll text you," Magnus nods, and they both head home - Alec in an expensive, shiny car and Magnus in a smelly, overcrowded train.

**_**

Magnus has many, _many_ examples of why he's his own greatest enemy, but there are two of them that should be highlighted in neon shades. One of them is falling in love with Camille, and the other is accepting Alec's invitation by a text.

Why did he have to text him? Why couldn't he have called? And why, since he knows that he's on his way to get heartbroken all over again, is he gigging like a schoolgirl every time his phone pings from Alec's texts?

It's late at night and Magnus is buried under a soft, thick and warm blanket, Chairman Meow curled up in a ball next to him and his phone in his hand. He occasionally takes a break from texting to run his fingers through The Chairman's velvety fur and enjoy the purr reverberating under his fingers.

He initially texted Alec to let him know that he'll be joining them on Saturday - a decision achieved through hours of listing pros and cons - and they've somehow spiralled from there to them complaining about pesky clients.

Magnus previously assumed that Alec was vexed with their situation, and he knows that he himself should be too, but today's outing proved him wrong. After their fallout, Magnus forced himself to never think of their friendship, and maybe that is why he's a little surprised at how well they get along. It's like the past eight years didn't happen at all.

And their sudden spur of conversation shows how well they click, even now, and reminds Magnus why they were best friends. Being Alec's friend is a wonderful blessing and Magnus is going to make sure he doesn't fuck it up again.

Feelings? _Buried_.

His phone chimes with another text and it's embarrassing how quickly he reads it.

**Alexander** **[12:07 AM]**  
_He comes in, attends the meeting, takes off his wedding ring and proposes to mom right in front of everyone! We did not land that deal when mom informed him that she's got a boyfriend._

Magnus shoots up to a sitting position at that. Maryse Lightwood has a _boyfriend_? Maryse Lightwood got _divorced?_

**Magnus [12:08 AM]**  
_I apologize for my words, but your mom finally divorced that scum?_

**Alexander [12:08 AM]**  
_No need for apologies. No one was happier than me when it got finalized. I'm still trying to find a way to disown Robert and not lose my position at the company while doing so._

**Magnus [12:10 AM]**  
_So, boyfriend, huh? Is she happy? Maryse would always make her famous nachos whenever I'd stay over at yours._

**Alexander [12:11 AM]**  
_She is very happy, actually. Luke's a great guy._

**Magnus [12:13 AM]**  
_Luke? Clary Fairchild's adoptive father?_

**Alexander [12:13 AM]**  
_Yes! It's kinda weird for Jace, though. Clary is technically our step-sister._

**Magnus [12:13 AM]**  
_Details, darling. He's adopted, she's adopted, it all cancels out._

**Alexander [12:15 AM]**  
_It's not like they're letting the issue stop them. The amount of times I've seen Jace's dick and Clary's freckled butt is atrocious._

**Magnus [12:16 AM]**  
_Thanks for the image._

They exchange a few lazy texts for a few more minutes before Magnus thinks of a very pressing issue.

**Magnus [12:29 AM]**  
_Doesn't Lydia mind us texting so late at night?_

He imagines Alec on the bed, covers pulled up to his torso, soft, messy curls sticking up in every direction and that delicious tattoo on his neck that he got for his twentieth birthday bold against his porcelain skin.

Lying next to Lydia.

Magnus' stomach churns painfully.

**Alexander [12:32 AM]**  
_Lydia and I don't live together._

It's a short text, clipped and a feigning a little faux indifference. Lydia seems to be a sensitive topic, and for good reasons.

Magnus doesn't want to ruin the mood and disrupt the conversation they were having by bringing her up. He's already done enough damage in the past. So, he changes the topic tactlessly.

**Magnus [12:34 AM]**  
_Did I tell you about the time I threw champagne at one of my clients?_

**Alexander [12:35 AM]**  
_...I'm reconsidering our decision to hire you for this wedding._

And they don't fall asleep until three in the morning, resulting in Magnus sleeping till noon and missing a semi-important meeting with a semi-important client.

But it's worth it.

**_**

Magnus arrives at _Taki's_ fashionably late, dressed in a ruby blazer embellished with shimmery black swirls, and a black button down and pants to go with it. He has paired his look with a subtle makeup, less glitter and gold and more black and bold. It's an indecipherable statement that he loves to declare.

_Taki's_ is a quaint indie place, lit up warmly by intricate pendant lights hanging from the ceiling and the light chatter of customers. There are small, round single tables as well as large, quadrangle group tables, and amber, cushiony barstools lined up against the bar. It doesn't look like a place where millionaires like the Lightwoods frequent, but Magnus shrugs it off. He knows better than to judge someone's taste by their bank account.

He spots Isabelle at the large table by the window and makes his way towards the group, reminding himself internally to not gawk at Alec, no matter how scrumptious he looks.

And scrumptious he _looks_. Dressed down in a worn out, grey sweater that Magnus is pretty sure he's seen in his college days, and a pair of dark jeans and sneakers, with messy hair that is yet to see a comb - Alec looks like a medical student desperately in need of a dozen caffeine shots. Not someone with a six-figure salary.

There's no Lydia in sight, Magnus notices with relief, and immediately chastises himself for that. Lydia still _exists_ , and is still very much _engaged_ to Alec, so her absence isn't a green light.

Izzy jumps up when she notices him approaching and greets him with a right hug, and he's instantly at ease. Isabelle Lightwood is an intimidating woman who's a teddy bear at heart. He waves hello to Jace and Simon, receives an enthusiastic ' _It's been so long!'_ hug from Clary and shares a smile with Alec. It seems like their previous daylong conversation has removed the strain from their relationship.

Magnus slips in the chair between Izzy and Alec, and is immediately bombarded with borderline invasive questions about his life.

"So, Magnus," Izzy picks up the menu and casually runs her gaze through it, "are you dating anyone?"

Magnus chokes on the first sip of his drink at that and Alec doesn't even bother to hide his glare.

"Izzy," Alec reprimands.

"No, no, it's fine," he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand inelegantly. "I'm not, actually. Why? Do you have someone in mind?"

"As a matter of fact," Izzy looks straight at Alec, "I do."

Magnus doesn't need to look at Alec to know that his glare hardens. There's a bud of hope fluttering in his chest ready to take flight, but Magnus stomps on it hastily and diverts the topic.

"I'm not looking, to be honest. My last relationship didn't end well and I've decided to give myself a break."

Izzy seems to deflate at his reply, and goes back to her menu. Magnus takes the opportunity to bring up the absence of Alec's fianceé. 

"Lydia isn't coming?"

Alec shakes his head. "She's sporting a massive headache. She even managed to get out of work early today."

Simon tuts. "She should take more breaks." He swings an arm over Izzy's shoulder, and Isabelle adjusts her position without sparing him a glance, an act so natural after years of being together. "When was the last time she had a day off?"

Alec sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I don't even remember. She's running herself to the ground and wouldn't listen to me."

There's genuine concern in his voice, and it dims the flame in Magnus' stomach. Alec and Lydia have been together for eight whole years, so of course he cares. Magnus experiences a sudden relief at the realization that Alec isn't going to be unhappy in the marriage. Sure, he won't be loved and wouldn't be able to love as a husband, but he wouldn't spend the rest of his life being miserable. Their friendship is strong enough to strike that off from the list.

But he's going to feel unloved. He'll never get to experience the wonders of a loving relationship, of being a boyfriend and a husband to a man he loves. And that's what break Magnus' heart.

Feelings are a wicked thing. No matter how much you try to bury them, they always have a tendency of showing up at the worst possible moment. Deep down, Magnus knew he wasn't over Alec. But he'd tried his best to bury the fact and move on.

Funny how it came back to bite him in the ass.

"You should try the _Pasta Con Pomodoro E Basilico._ You like Italian, right?"

Magnus looks up at Alec, eyes brimming with nostalgia. "I do," he says, barely keeping his voice from breaking, "remember _Fonso's_?"

_Fonso's_ was an Italian place back in college, ten minutes from their dorm that offered the best Italian cuisine. They'd always order in from there on their takeout days, resulting in heaps of boxes littering their apartment. Alec would grumble about getting sick of the same type of food, and then fight Magnus over the last spoonful of _Risotto_.

Alec's eyes glitter. "Oh yes, that dreadful place." His smile drops. "Did you know they took the diner down and replaced it with a laundromat?"

" _Ex-fucking-cuse me?"_ Magnus' eyes widen in horror. "They replaced _Fonso's_ with a fucking _laundromat_?"

"Idris, am I right?" Alec makes a face. "Can't appreciate the good things in life."

"Didn't they take down the coffee shop as well? You know, the one that gave free cookie on Fridays? What was its name?"

" _Bell's Brews_?"

"That's the one!" Magnus snaps his finger. "They put a _Starbucks_ in its place, remember?"

"Ugh, yes. You almost cried when you heard the news."

"I did not cry!"

"You did."

"They gave free cookies, Alexander! Free _double chocolate chip cookies_! You'd cry too!"

"But I _didn't_ ," Alec looks at him with mirth shining in his eyes. "I was too busy trying to hold you back from murdering the construction workers."

Magnus huffs and looks away. "I wasn't gonna _murder_ them."

"You were sharpening a stake knife, Magnus."

"It was for dramatic purposes, okay?" He glares down at his laminated menu. "Besides, they'd deserve it for taking away my free cookie."

A polite cough breaks their bubble. It's the waitress, rocking an afro of dark curls and warm umber skin glowing in the aureate light. She smiles and nods at her customers.

"Lightwoods and Co. Long time no see."

Jace laughs. "Ah, yes, five days too long."

She ignores him and turns to Magnus. "Hi, I'm Maia."

She's sporting a seaweed coloured bomber jacket with lots of customised pins that Magnus doesn't want to take his eyes off, but forces himself to do so anyways. "Magnus. I _love_ your style."

Maia grins, sharp and shiny. "Why, thank you. What are you doing with these heathens, if you don't mind me asking?"

A cry of protests go round the table.

"Is this how you treat your _paying_ customers?"

"You're uninvited from game night!"

"No more _Blade Runner_ marathons for you!"

"I hope your hair falls off when you're sleeping!"

Magnus chuckles. The prestigious Lightwoods are nothing but _kids_. He risks a glance up at Maia and is amused to see her unfazed.

"Hush, you barbarians. You're making the guest uncomfortable."

To his amusement, the table instantly quietens, before Izzy let's out an undignified snort and says, "he's been through this before."

It's refreshing how comfortable they suddenly are with bringing up the past, even though they've done nothing but pretend that the fallout never happened.

Magnus is a forgiving person - sometimes even bordering naïveté, and that's why he lets them. He should resent them for trying to bury Alec's mistake, but he doesn't want to, because he's missed their company. Even if it's for the time being, until the wedding, he's fine with letting the false notion of friendship continue. They're going their separate ways after the wedding in any case.

They place their orders, and after Maia leaves the table, Izzy nudges Magnus' foot with hers. He is startled, initially thinking it's Alec, but quickly calms down when he sees Isabelle leaning sideways towards him.

"So, Magnus, since you're not familiar with our Saturday Night tradition, let me enlighten you."

Alec groans at her words while the rest of the crew nods along enthusiastically. Izzy beams. "So," her eyes get serious, "we use this night to call an intervention in the life of our _dumbass of the week_. This time, it's Alec."

It's hilarious how solemn Isabelle's voice is, but terrifying at the same time. Magnus can't decide if he should play it cool or just laugh it off.

"I'm not sure I should be interfering in your familial matters."  
  
"We disagree," Clary pipes up from his left. "We think you're the only one who's got a chance to convince Alec to not ruin his life."

"Can you stop acting like I'm not here?" Alec seethes, seemingly ambushed by his family the same way Magnus is. "You're making Magnus uncomfortable. Look at him. He's picking his nails."

Magnus' heart warms at the observation. Alec used to be on his case about his nervous tick all the time back in college, and it's hauntingly mellisonant that he still remembers it.

He blinks back. "I'm not _uncomfortable_ , per se. Just...unprepared. So, enlighten me. How do we intervene in Alexander's life?"

Izzy smirks. "Make him call off the wedding."

In hindsight, Magnus should've predicted this. Isabelle has always been a doting, impenetrable force of nature, and the chances of her accepting the hoax of Alec's marriage are slim to none. 

But Magnus feels like the entire dinner was arranged to attack _him_ and _his_ feelings, and while he knows it's petty and quite self-centered, he can't shake the thought off.

"That would be counterproductive to my business now, wouldn't it?" His eyes harden, hands tightening around the glass he's holding. "And if anything, this should be Alec's decision. I, of all people, don't have any right to interfere."

A cold silence settles over the table at his suppressed outburst, and even though he can feel Alec's eyes burning holes into him, he deliberately refuses to give them the satisfaction by looking at him.

The awkward, stifling moment is interrupted when Maia puts their food down on the table, commenting, "wow, need me to grab a butcher knife from the kitchen to cut this tension?"

Simon and Clary snort at her words, share a sheepish look with the others, and the entire table bursts out laughing. Magnus doesn't find the situation even a little bit funny, but laughter is infectious, so he keeps on chuckling, previous contempt forgotten.

They delve into their food without another word, and Magnus moans at the assault of the wonderfully blend gourmet sauce on his tastebuds. The pasta is perfectly cooked, and the generous portion of meat and basil marries the dish beautifully.

Alec laughs at his reaction. "I knew you'd like it."

The conservancy sends a bittersweet spark low in Magnus' stomach. He longs for this kind of intimacy with Alec, a sense of familiarity that's warm and safe and real. Something that reminds Magnus of a _home_ he's never had.

He doesn't know if he can push through his feelings hard enough to hold on to their reconciled friendship, but he's going to try his fucking best. Unless that's not what Alec wants. Then he'll back off, _twice_ and for all.  
  


**_**

"We can set up the altar here," Magnus gestures in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass backdrop at one end of the boathouse, overlooking The Ramble and The Lake. He takes in the wide space and does a quick mental calculation of the seating arrangement, before proposing, "maybe copper coloured leaves stretched over a stark, statement making arch? Imagine sparse, wintry branches spray painted in metallic hues as a minimal alternative to flowers. I'm thinking rose gold?"

Lydia nods, satisfied with his image as Alec trails along, hands buried in the pocket of his coat as he sports a blasé look.

"I'm not a flower person, to be honest, and I _was_ thinking of asking you for another option," Lydia adds a little sheepishly.

Magnus smiles at her, warm and affectionate. She seems like a lovely person, unyielding to the arrogance her status usually brings. "I guessed that from your disinterest in your wedding bouquet. Most people select specific flowers with specific meanings, but you, my dear, chose a bouquet of blue hydrangea that symbolizes frigidity and apology."

"I didn't know about the _frigidity_ part, but believe me," the slight amusement in Lydia's voice dies down, and she mumbles, "there's a reason why I chose them."

There's sadness in her eyes when she looks up to meet his gaze, and Magnus immediately knows why she did so. She's apologizing to Alec for their loveless marriage, silently, because he'd never let her voice them out loud. Which means she knows. She knows and she's still marrying him, subjecting herself to this life.

Magnus opens his mouth to ask her _why,_ but the distinctive movement of Alec stepping closer to Lydia causes him to back off. It's not his place to question their decision.

Why does he always have to remind himself that?

He nods at her, and turns around with a swirl, then looks up. "Lydia, darling, what do you think of ice crystals?"

"I...apathetic?"

"Hm," Magnus motions up towards the ceiling, "we can hang prismoid silvery ice crystals from above, kind of like pendant lights, and put eucalyptus leaves in them." He tilts his head to the side and catches Alec's eyes, "corresponds with the ambiance, I believe."

Alec's lips lift up in a slow smile, a warm hue of red painting his cheeks. "You've always had an eye for design."

"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet," Magnus drops a wink, then quickly composes himself when he realizes that Lydia is watching them with amusement.

"Alec's told me you were friends?"

That's new. Magnus doesn't want to dwell on the question of what else he's mentioned. "We were. Until... _life_ happened."

Even if Lydia doesn't know, she doesn't question him, and Magnus is thankful for that. He doesn't want to think of whatever weak, atrocious lie he'd have to come up with to explain said _life_.

"Well," she smiles warmly at him, then gazes up affectionately at Alec, "I'm glad Alec's found an old friend in the midst of this chaos."

Alec returns her smile. A little tight around the edges and leans down to reciprocate her kiss, and Magnus looks away, blinking rapidly. His heart tightens, his chest is heavy, and suddenly he air around them is thick and dense. He exhales shakily and focuses on a wreath on the wall, and wills himself to calm down.

It's okay, because he's dealt with the crushing pain of heartbreak before, has covered the invisible wounds with worn out bandages until they left nothing but a scar in his heart.

Magnus clears his throat. This is about Lydia and Alec. He can lick his wounds some other time.

"Lydia, have you maybe considered a stole over your wedding dress?"

"A stole? That does sound perfect for a winter wedding."

"Indeed. Imagine something unbearably elegant, soft and white, which, of course, would look wonderful with the plunging neckline."

They walk around for half an hour or so, discussing plans and ideas for the setting up the wedding as Elliott, Magnus' decorator, and Alec trail behind. Alec voices an opinion or two, but only when prompted, leaving Lydia to do most of the talking.

Magnus has planned almost fifty weddings in the five years he's been in this profession, and never has he seen a couple so deserted by their family. It has always been a hassle for him, actually, to wrestle the overwhelmed family members tagging along into obedience. They're rarely understanding, always trying to make sure _their_ tastes are taken into consideration, and sometimes even prioritizing _themselves_ over the bride and groom.

It's a relief that Magnus doesn't have to deal with Alec and Lydia's high-class, pompous family, but it's also a little heartbreaking. Granted, it's an arranged marriage, but the way it's being disregarded irks him.

Again, _not_ his headache.

There's a lull in the conversation that is eventually disrupted by a loud pang from Lydia's phone that startles the crew. She shoots them a sheepish smile, exchanges an exasperated look with Alec and walks away for some privacy.

Alec takes the opportunity to walk up to Magnus and lean closer. "Fifty bucks says she's getting called in."

"I thought today was her day off?"

"Yes, well," Alec looks back at Lydia standing in a corner, and pulls a face, "she hasn't had a proper _day off_ in four years."

"That's..."

"Unhealthy? Alarming? An absolutely dreadful way to live? Tell me about it."

"When did you become so dramatic?" Magnus chuckles. "You weren't any better than her in college."

"Oh, I wasn't that bad." Alec rolls his eyes. "Besides, college was a major pain in the ass."

"So is a high-end job."

"Not when you have hundreds of people working under you."

Alec is standing close enough that Magnus can see the flecks of green in his eyes, count the feathery lashes and feel the ghost of his breath on his lips. It's marginally inappropriate, to be in such a proximity with Alec, specially when his intended is only a few meters away, but Magnus doesn't make a move to step away. For once, he wants _Alec_ to come to the realization that he can't have _this_ if he marries a woman.

Alec's a big boy. He doesn't need Magnus and his family to point everything out.

"I was wondering," Alec trails off, eyes focused on the ground, before he clenches his jaw and looks up, "I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink after this? To, you know, um, catch up."

He looks awkward and entirely out of his element, shuffling on his feet and staring pointedly at a point behind Magnus. He wants to sympathize with Alec, wants to give him an out and nod along, but he's had enough of his irrational emotions overruling what's best for him.

"You want to catch up with me?" Magnus raises a skeptical eyebrow.

Alec looks thwarted, as though he feels like they're back to square one, and Magnus agrees. He _wants_ to go back to square one. He's done with ignoring their past, his heartbreak and Alec's mixed signals.

"Is there something wrong with that?"

"I don't know." Magnus crosses his arms over his chest, and Alec, deprived and _utterly adorable_ Alec, trails his eyes down to the outline of Magnus pecs highlighted by his silk shirt, and keeps them there. Magnus really shouldn't have taken his coat off, no matter how much he was sweating because of the heater - he needs to have a conversation about _that_. "Am I supposed to pretend that everything between us is magically fixed?"

"I--um, what?"

Magnus coughs. "My eyes are up here, darling."

Hazel eyes snap up to meet his as the most breathtaking flush colours the apple of Alec's cheeks. Magnus itches to kiss them, feel the delightful warmth under his lips. He also itches to have Alec's babies, so there's that.

"I wasn't--I, uh, you know, necklaces. They're--they're nice. Suits you."  
  
"I'm sure they do. Now answer the question."

There's a tiny furrow between Alec's brows when he attempts to recall Magnus' question, and honestly, he looks so cute and sexy and _fucking beautiful_ that Magnus wants to forgive him immediately and drag him to the nearest horizontal surface.

"I thought everything was fine after our night at _Taki's_?" It's an assumption posed as a question, and somehow, that's exactly what Magnus wanted him to ask.

"Things between us haven't been _fine_ since that fateful morning when I woke up to my best friend walking out on me."

Alec looks ashamed; fortunately for him, because Magnus wouldn't have hesitated to deck him otherwise. "Then why'd you reply to my texts and join my family for dinner?"

Magnus feels his walls going up, climbing higher and higher and securing his defenses. "I thought I could manage to keep up the pretense. However, now I believe that I have a right to be mad at you. And you don't deserve to be forgiven so easily."

Alec chews on his bottom lip, pensive and a little peeved. "I admit that whatever happened was because _I_ was acting immature. And yes," he sighs, and Magnus _knows_ that he regrets it, "you have every right to be mad at me. So, maybe you'd consider grabbing a bite with me so I can apologize properly?"

Alec's eyes are shining with barely concealed hope, and of course, Magnus caves. How could he not? He's only half pretending to be mad at the boy so he can give his past self justice. And on a totally unrelated note, it just so happens that he still has feelings for Alec. The _romantic_ kind.

What a horrifying prospect.

Lydia joins them a minute later with an apologetic smile on her lips.

"I have to go." She looks up at Alec. "Are you okay with finishing things up here without me?"

"We're almost done, actually," Magnus cuts in, "just need to sign some things with the owner and have a few words with my decorator to put the plan into motion."

Alec nods. "I'll be fine. You go on. Give my regards to Henry and tell him to give you a fucking break."

Lydia rolls her eyes. "It's not him. Raj misplaced an important report and I'll have to take care of the mess."

"Fire him. He's been making your life hell since day one."

Magnus is pretty sure that he's not supposed to listen in to their conversation, but they're having it right in front of him, so it's not like he's the one to blame.

"He makes good coffee." Lydia pats Alec's arm, before turning to Magnus. "I'm so sorry for cutting this short."

"It's not a problem at all. I hope you can find the report."

Lydia mumbles a discreet _don't we all_ under her breath, offers them one last smile and walk away, dialing her driver to pull up the car.

"So," Magnus looks back from her retreating figure to find Alec's glimmering eyes boring into him, and he's pretty sure that if he tries hard enough, he can see a tail wigging expectantly, "lunch?"

He sighs. The offer has gone from _drink_ to _a bite_ to _lunch_ , and since Magnus is apparently a fucking masochist, he says, "lead the way."

They make themselves comfortable in the window table of a small bistro, taking in the Christmas decor that had become gaudy the day those red and green flamingos were hung from the ceiling. Magnus is all about going full-scale Christmassy, but he has an impeccable taste, knows his colour palette, and has the good sense of not hanging flamingos from his roof.

The weather report said that it's going to start snowing within a day or two, and Magnus is bursting with excitement. He's loves snow, and the wonderful aesthetic that comes with it is always a blessed bonus. Alec, on the other hand, _hates_ winter with all he's got because of how pale he gets from the lack of sun.

Well, Alec _hated_ winter. Magnus isn't sure he knows the person sitting across him very well now.

They order a large pizza to share, two sodas and a block of dark chocolate brownie each when the waiter attends them with a blasé look.

Once he walks away with their orders, Alec leans forward, rests his elbows on the small table and says, plain as the day, "I'm sorry."

As far as apologies go, it's mediocre. Magnus tilts his head to the side and raises his eyebrows.

Alec takes a deep breath and continues. "I was a coward. You told me that you--" he gulps, "that you had feelings for me and I got scared. I've always known that I wasn't attracted to girls, and that I could never voice it out loud because _Robert_. And then _you_ , my best friend, my only sanctuary and the person I loved even more than my siblings, sometimes, confessed to _me_."

If there is one thing that hasn't changed in all these years, it's Alec's self-deprecation.

Alec lets out a watery laugh. "Me, who has stepped on your feet a million times whenever you forced me to dance with you; who always put the broccoli on your plate when you weren't looking; who'd steal the last bite of your pizza. You were the most _beautifully_ fascinating person I'd ever known, and you liked _me_."

Magnus is beginning to think that it has nothing to do with him and everything to do with Alec's lack of self-confidence.

"I didn't _like_ you, Alexander," Magnus corrects him, because might as well lose all his dignity while he's at it, "I _loved_ you. I was _in love_ with you."

He makes sure to use the past tense deliberately, leaving no gap in the wall built around his heart.

"That's the crazy thing, isn't it?" Alec's eyes flash with something that Magnus can't decipher, the hazel in them profound like the full moon in a cloudless night. "I found it hard to believe that I had a chance. And then I ruined it singlehandedly."

"What do you mean?"

Alec's leans in, and by some invisible pull, Magnus finds himself tipping closer until his torso is pressed against the hard plywood table, the only thing separating the two of them.

"I've been in love with you since the night you sneaked into my room on your mom's death anniversary."

Magnus doesn't get the time to react, because the waiter slams their food on the table, and walks away like Magnus' life hasn't been upturned by a single sentence.

He takes in a shaky breath and shoves himself away from the table. " _What_ _the fuck_ , _Alexander_?"

Magnus has gone through _months_ of humiliation, betrayal and rage only to find out that Alec felt the same, but wanted nothing to do with him. He's spent years blaming himself, hiding his feelings and building his perfectly crafted wall, brick by brick with his own hands, because he was done with being rejected by the people who mattered to him.

And it's all because Alec was a fucking chicken.

His throat is parched, dry and sandy as the Sahara when he tries to speak. He grabs the soda and gulps it down like water, relishing in the fizzy burn. "Me sneaking into you're room," Magnus says after he finds his voice, ignoring his scratchy throat, "that was back in _high school_."

Alec nods, unable to meet his eyes. "You cried yourself to sleep next to me, and I," he sniffs, eyes suspiciously wet when they focus on Magnus, and the most breathtakingly haunted smile adorns his face, "I remember wiping your tears, running my fingers through your hair, kissing your forehead, and thinking _this is it. This is what I want for the rest of my life._ "

"Alexander--"

"And then I blew my only chance," Alec laughs, bitter and condescending, and Magnus hates it.

"What if it wasn't?" Magnus whispers.

Alec's eyes fly up to meet his. "What?"

He's risking his heart for the second time, and since he never learns from his mistake, he knows that he'll do the same over and over again, if it means he's got a shot at a future with Alec.

So, Magnus lays himself bare. "What if I still want you?"

Alec's eyes go comically wide, which would've been funny if Magnus' heart wasn't beating in his throat, ready to leap out and make a run for it. When Alec takes a little too long to process, Magnus feels like throwing up.

But then Alec stands up abruptly, brings out his wallet and throws a was of cash on the table, and blurted out, "tell them to keep the change."

He's running away again, Magnus realizes with a sharp pain in his chest, and chokes out, "Alexander, I swear to _God_ \--"

Alec is almost halfway to the exit when he looks back, and gives him a blinding smile that is nowhere near reassuring. "I'll find you."

Magnus wants to _murder_ him.

**_**

He's back in his loft, reclining on the chaise lounge, head tipped back over the backrest with a glass of _Cabernet Sauvignon_ dangling from his hand. Chairman Meow is curled up in a ball on top of his custom pillow, purring softly at the warmth.

It's only been three hours since that disaster lunch, and Magnus is almost done regretting most of his life choices by now. One of them happens to be telling Catarina about today. She's resorted to texting him non-stop when Magnus didn't pick up her fiftieth call.

Honesty, what was he thinking? Did he expect Alec to break up with Lydia just because Magnus can't get over his stupid, ludicrous feelings?

And why did he even confess? It's not like Alec said anything about his _current_ feelings.

Which, to be honest, has always been highly unlikely. Besides, most get over their unrequited crush within a handful of months, unlike a certain pathetic individual.

Also, what's up with the terribly cryptic _I'll find you_? Find him where - in the afterlife? And since when did Alec start talking in riddles? Hasn't that always been Magnus' department?

Chairman Meow stretches up from his cushion and makes his way over to Magnus, tail flicking sideways. He wriggles his butt and launches himself at his owner, kneads Magnus' thigh with his little paws and curls up on his lap. Magnus scratches the soft, furry head and drops a kiss on it, and moans, "Alexander is so fucking pretty, Chairman! It's unfair to us singles."

The Chairman lets out a sympathetic mewl.

"And to make things worse, I even like his fianceé! Why did Lydia have to be so wonderful? Couldn't she have been a typical snooty bitch?"

Another mewl and a nudge against Magnus' fingers to continue their ministrastions on his head.

"Yeah, you're right. I don't wish for Alec to be even more miserable in his already miserable marriage."

The Chairman doesn't bother to offer anything anymore. Magnus makes an affronted noise at the audacity.

He can feel fatigue seeping into his bones, aching all over like he's over-exerted his muscles and making him want to call Dot and cancel all his appointments for the next day. Unfortunately, he still has to attend the Collins' rehearsal dinner, go cake tasting with the Andersens _and_ tidy up the miscellaneous works for the Lightwood-Branwells.

Magnus wants to move back to Indonesia, change his name to _Agung,_ and catch fishes for a living.

He's _tired_.

Running around with Alec and planning his wedding is the largest drag Magnus has ever experienced. He wants to smooch the groom and run in the opposite direction at the same time, and the fluttery knots in his stomach isn't a big help either.

Magnus cards his fingers through Chairman's soft fur and sighs. This is it. He's turning thirty next year, and the only permanent thing in his life is The Chairman. He doesn't want to attached to someone only to get his heart broken again, but at this rate, he's never going to get married.

Not that there's something wrong with being unmarried. It just becomes a little lonely after a while, specially for someone like him, who only has a handful of friends to call family.

He loves his friends and would even take a bullet for them in a heartbeat, but at the end of the day, they still have their own family to spend holidays with. He's been invited to holiday dinner with Cat and Ragnor's family about a million times now, but Magnus hates being the outsider. It's an issue he's dealt with his whole life, what with being an Asian, an orphan _and_ a bisexual living in the time of such dire supremacism, and it's something he'd rather avoid.

So, he declines their invitation, ignores the flash of pity in their eyes and spends the day with Chairman. On the other hand, Raphael swings by every time to drop off Christmas dinner, ignoring Magnus' protests with an irritated huff and a _these are leftovers, Bane! And Rosa won't let me back in I don't give them to you._

Magnus is almost eighty percent--no, sixty-five percent sure that deep down, Raphael only does this because he doesn't want Magnus to spend the entire day alone.

Bottom line is that even though he's wary, Magnus just wants to fall in love with someone who actually reciprocates his feelings - and doesn't wait for eight years to tell him that with a fianceé in the backseat - and get married. He's sick of cooking dinner for one.

A chime from his phone jolts both him and The Chairman, causing the cat to hiss at the offending device and make a run for Magnus' bedroom, possibly seeking solace for the rest of the day.

It's a text from Raphael that is equally confusing and concerning, saying _your boyfriend harassed me at my store today._  
  
Confusing, because Magnus doesn't remember having a boyfriend, and concerning, because, of course, Raphael being _harassed_.

He texts back a worried _are you okay?_ and a perplexed _what boyfriend?_

Magnus drops his phone on his lap, knowing full well that Raphael isn't going to reply for another half an hour because he has a strict policy of _no phones while working._ Honestly, Magnus is surprised that he even got a text at that time in the afternoon when it's a rush hour for Raphael.

But the day proves itself to be stranger and stranger, because Raphael texts him another confusing _keep it in your pants, please. It's only four in the afternoon._

Magnus' fingers itch to rip his hair out. He _hates_ it when others act deliberately cryptic with him.

Magnus puts his drink down on the center table and gets up to take a quick hot bath, but the unexpected ring from his front door stops him mid-motion.

He's not expecting anyone, but has an inkling that it's Catarina, here to fuss over him like the good mother hen that she is. But he's not in the mood to be fussed over, preferring to be left alone to moon in his flat bottom bathtub and drown in his bubble bath.

He trips on his way to the door over one of Chairman's toys and kicks it under the couch, before wrenching the door open with such a force that it's a miracle that he didn't unhinge it.

The admonishing words for Catarina that he's been reciting in his head meet their demise when they get lodged in his throat, because the person standing on his doorstep, panting like a bitch in heat is _definitely_ not Catarina.

The once gorgeous locks on Alec's head is currently sticking up in every direction possible, and for the hundredth time that week, all Magnus wants to do is run his fingers through them and tug him into a kiss. Alec's lost his jacket, and the white button down he's been wearing inside is rumpled, paired adorably with the red flush on the tip of his nose and the apple of his cheeks.

Alec catches his breath and Magnus promptly loses _his,_ finding himself on the blissful receiving end of a gaze heavy with _need_ and _want_ and _everything_ he's ever dreamt of.

"I broke off the engagement," Alec says shakily, as if it's still surreal to him. "I'm done running away from my happiness. And I'm going to kiss you now."

For the second time that day, Magnus doesn't get the chance to properly react, because as soon as an affirmative whimper leaves him, he's pushed up against the wall across the door, held by the sheer strength of Alec's arms around his waist and has Alec licking into his mouth.

Magnus moans, unashamed, and kisses him back with equal fervour, matching him for every nip and lick. He rucks up the soft fabric around Alec's waist and tugs it free from the belt, slipping his cold fingers underneath, causing Alec to shiver when they meet his warm skin.

It doesn't discourage him, though, because he sucks lightly on Magnus tongue before moving his lips slightly down to his full bottom lip. Alec tastes sweet and minty, like those drugstore peppermint candies and it's _perfect_.

Magnus bites down on Alec's upper lip and Alec lets go of his lip with a gasp, only to get his captured by Magnus'. It's filthy, it's messy, it's setting Magnus' skin on fire, but it's all he wants. All he _needs_.

The prospect of Alec losing his inhibition has never sounded so good to him until right then.

They come up for air a moment later, and while Magnus takes a second to calm his erratic heart, Alec wastes no time to bury his face in the hollow between Magnus' shoulder and neck, mouthing at the sensitive bundle of nerves there.

Magnus throws his head back with a groan at the heavenly sensation, his hips jolting to meet Alec's, who grinds down in hunger. Liquid heat pools low in Magnus' stomach and he shivers from the delicious drag against his sensitive skin. Alec's fingers tighten around his waist as he leaves one last kiss to the already bruising skin of his neck.

" _Fuck_ ," Alec chuckles hoarsely against his neck and Magnus trembles again like a virginal teen. He inhales deeply. "You smell like sandalwood and pine and I--"

Magnus can't stop the laugh that abruptly leaves him. "What am I, a holiday scented candle?"

Alec moves away to release him from his hold, a lopsided smile tugging on the corner of his bitten red lips. His smile soon turns bitter.

"I've been lying to myself and everyone around me for so long that the line between _your_ Alexander, the person I want to be and everyone else's _Alec_ has been smudged to the point where it's only a fever dream now."

Magnus is still hazy from the out-of-this-world kiss, and a little wounded by the fact that Alec is already talking in full, _meaningful_ sentences.

He blinks and shakes his head to drive the fog out, and raises his brows playfully. "Are you gonna stay this time or am I going to face tomorrow with a broken heart again?"

Alec takes it in stride, and chuckles. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, igniting a flame deep in Magnus that's writhing for another lick of his intoxicating taste, and with eyes shining with sincerity, vows, "I'm here to stay."  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I don't wanna ruin the story by writing any further, but one reader asked a very concerning question about the cake, so I'll wager on Lydia and Alec getting the cake delivered anyways - because who can resist such orgasmic delight? - and they eat it while hiding from their family's repercussions and Lydia demands to be the Best Woman at Malec's inevitable wedding 😉
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts? Comments and kudos are always loved ♥


End file.
